Improbable Liaison
by EriRapp
Summary: A number of drabbles/short fics surrounding Belial and Michael and their relationship. Belial/Michael. Will probably never be complete.
1. Storm

**Storm**

There's an odd scent in the air whenever a storm rages outside which somehow reminds the Mad Hatter of her Lord's twin. Odd, given his fiery nature, given the way he loathes the rain pouring down to the ground, hates the wet. Then again, perhaps that's why.

She's always thought him most beautiful when angry, golden eyes darkening till they turn to vicious, biting rays of blinding emotion. There's no troublesome thoughts then, when he acts on instinct rather than on what might be best for his family, rather than on what will distinguish him from his twin most. He becomes raw power then, shining and gorgeous beyond anyone she's seen.

He is, after all, the child of Light.

The storm doesn't dim his light, though he shudders from its grasp, glares menacingly at its darkness. He faces it with the same ferocity he shows the world, that wrath born from a brilliant flame kept in the shadows too long. It makes his radiance more intoxicating, magnetic.

It is the strongest aphrodisiac she knows.


	2. One Day

**One Day**

One day he will grow tired of their games. He will wake up in the morning and discover there is no raging need within him to stay with Pride, that she has taught him many lessons but cannot teach him anything more. She is a demon, his twin's loyal servant, and he is an angel, sworn to act as the avenging artist of destruction when the war between their realms begins again. They were never meant to be.

He doesn't know it yet, but one day this will be over. One day the angel of Fire and Light will look at her and realize that she is the despicable creature he has been fighting with for years from the inside out. One day he will understand why his brothers would have warned him of her wiles, of the creature she truly is at her core. One day he will know that she is only Pride, there is nothing else within her, just as so many have discovered.

Everything in her demands that she walk away before he leaves her. She knows that if he chooses to walk away before she does, she'll have lost everything she is, everything she stands for, everything she's known. If she leaves him, he'll fall, left all alone in the world, more vulnerable than ever before without anyone to turn to, anyone to care for him.

The end will destroy one of them. But the present, with all its passion, is worth the risk.


	3. Know Nothing Else

**Know Nothing Else**

Michael does not know how long they've been playing this game, how long he's been sheathed within her, caught in this maddening sensation of ever-building pleasure she refuses to let end. He does not know how many marks she's left on his body, little red points singing that he belongs to the Mad Hatter. He does not know how much longer he can go on, how much more his body can take before collapsing.

He knows nothing but that the sun is rising, and he desperately wants her, wants this, and he does not care where the night has gone or how much of his own pride she has cost him.


	4. Control

**Control**

It isn't often she allows him control in the bedroom, isn't often she pulls her fiery lover onto the bed over her, rather than under her. The moment of confusion in his eyes makes her smile before their lips meet, mouths mating in their own way before he draws back for breath, panting breaking the veil of silence in the room.

She laughs as she wraps her arms around him, letting him taste her neck, lower to her flat chest, his tongue flicking out to taste her hardening rosy nipples. The laugh shifts to a pleasured purr, a soft, encouraging sound as her fingers tangle in his hair, leading him to the other side when he's satisfied the first.

It's moments like this she fears, when his gentleness threatens her equilibrium, when his flushed face watches hers for that approval she cannot help but offer. Pride has brought so many to the heights of pleasure, has had men and women screaming whatever name she offered for the night in moments. Never once has anyone else been allowed to touch her like this with such softness she fears she might break. Pride has to stand alone, is always alone, but she could lose herself in Michael's caresses; they're far too much for her to resist like this.

This tenderness given to her with every kiss, every lick as he moves lower to pay homage to the butterfly tattooed on her thigh is more than she's ever known, ever wanted. It is more than a Sin could ask for, this slow, loving worship as his mouth descends on her nether-mouth, dragging a long moan from her. This is all that is real, all that she is exists only in this moment.


End file.
